


Promise

by Dragonflywhisperer568



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Sam's POV, The torture is not detailed, Torture, but the aftermath is mildly disturbing, dnf I guess if you really want to squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 13:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30106836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflywhisperer568/pseuds/Dragonflywhisperer568
Summary: “I don’t believe you.” But Dream sounded more like he needed to believe what he was saying instead of actually believing it. “He-he might not feed me when I misbe—when I deserve it. But he wouldn’t let you—"“Don’t you get it?” Quackity cut him off. “No one cares what I do to you and no one is going to protect you.”---Sam deals with Quackity's visit to Pandora's Vault and the guilt that comes with it.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 185





	1. A Simple Visit

“Or what? You going to put me in double prison?” Dream snarked. _That damn cockiness._

Sam forced down the guilt threatening to form deep in his chest. _He deserves this. Think of Tommy. Think of Tubbo._

Quackity laughed. “Double prison? Nah.”

“Nah, Dream—”

“I’m gonna do something else to you.”

“How did you--?” Dream was stunned. Sam guessed that Quackity must have revealed his…tools.

“I asked the nice way Dream, and you didn’t want to tell me.”

“You’re not gonna kill me.” There was doubt in his voice. Sam knew Quackity would hear it too.

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Quackity murmured. It might have sounded comforting, if—

_No. Don’t think. He deserves it._

“Sam!”

Dream’s cry snapped him from his thoughts.

“I’m going to make your last days in the fucking prison Hell, Dream.”

Quackity sounded happy. Giddy. _Excited._

“Sam!” The call was more desperate this time.

Sam wanted to vomit. He stayed silent. The emotionless warden.

“How did you--!?”

“Hey, hey, don’t do that, don’t do that.” It sounded like he was talking to a misbehaving child. “Don’t punch me man, alright?”

There was a sharp silence before Quackity continued.

“It’s simple Dream, alright? You’re going to tell me all the knowledge you have in that fucking book or I’m going to come here every. single. fucking. day. to make your life hell and I’m going to stick to it until you give me the knowledge in that fucking book.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything.” But he sounded scared.

 _Dream_ was scared.

Quackity chuckled. “You have no other choice. If you don’t want me here every fucking day, then you are going to give me the fucking knowledge in the book.”

There was no answer. Maybe Dream was deciding how serious Quackity was—if he’d actually be able to do what he was suggesting.

_Always calculating. Always needing to know everything._

“I’m not fucking around Dream.”

“Saaam!” the desperate cry once again rang out on cold walls.

_Falling on a cold heart. The warden has to be cold. Has to be logical._

“You can scream for Sam all you want, Dream.”

“H-how did you—? There’s no way— How did you sneak it in?” Dream was beginning to panic. Just like when Tommy was staring him down in that cursed vault.  
The vault you built, Sam reminded himself before banishing the thought. He didn’t know what Dream intended to do with it at that time.

“I didn’t sneak anything in,” Quackity chuckled darkly.

“Then how—”

“Don’t you recognize this sword Dream? Why don’t you take a closer look?”

Sam knew Dream would see _Warden’s Will_ neatly engraved on the blade.

“What did you do Quackity!?”

Dream sounded desperate, but also…angry?

“Where is Sam!?”

Quackity was cackling. He was _enjoying_ this.

“Sam!? Sam!!! Are you okay!?”

“Quackity, where is he!?”

Sam’s stomach turned, not for the first (and he suspected not for the last) time that day. Dream had to know what was about to happen, but he was worried about Sam?

_He just wants you to spare him the pain. He doesn’t actually care._

Thoughts flash back to a better time. Laughing with his friends and fishing off the roof of an unfinished brick building. Pushing each other into the water and laughing harder as they resurfaced.

_Maybe…_

It hurts, but he forces himself to stay and to stay silent.

“There’s been enough talking, Dream” Quackity said suddenly. No evidence of laughter in his voice now. “You’re going to tell me or we’re going to do this the fucking hard way for as long as I need to do it.”

“SA—” the call was cut off with a strangled cry.

“Sam gave me my toys here. He wants you to feel this.”

_No I don’t._

“You’re lying! He wouldn’t!”

“But he did Dream!” Quackity laughed gleefully.

“I don’t believe you.” But Dream sounded more like he needed to believe what he was saying instead of actually believing it. “He-he might not feed me when I misbe—when I deserve it. But he wouldn’t let you—"

“Don’t you get it?” Quackity cut him off. “ _No one_ cares what I do to you and _no one_ is going to protect you.”

“You’re wrong,” Dream said, a desperate whisper. “George, Sapnap—”

He was once again cut off with a sharp laugh.

“George and Sapnap!?”

“George fucking hates you after what you did to him. He left the Greater SMP for _Mexican L’Manburg_. And Sapnap? Sapnap is my fucking _fiancé_. You have nothing left. No _Gogy_. No _Handsamdude_. And no control.”

The sound of lava bubbling was deafening in the silence.

“Come on, _Dreeeam_. I have all the time in the world~”

“Fuck you,” was the tense response, barely loud enough for Sam to hear.

“I was hoping you’d say that—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you really enjoyed!  
> I'd really appreciate it if you left a comment below to tell me what you thought <3


	2. The Warden's Death

Sam used to think Dream was the strongest, bravest person in the SMP. He was untouchable. Unfazeable.

He decided he had been wrong when he saw how quickly Dream had submitted to Tommy. How pathetic he had become once he no longer had control, begging to be spared his last life.

But the day Quackity came to visit, he once again realized he was wrong.

The screaming continued for what felt like hours.

Had it been hours?

Sam refused to look at the clock he always held. And he refused to leave his post outside the main cell.

How long would the prisoner be able to hold out?

At first there had just been short cries mixed with furious fuck you’s, but that had ended some time ago, now replaced with near constant screaming.

He tried not to think about what was happening behind the wall of lava, constantly repeating a mantra of _he deserves it, he deserves it, he deserves it._

The screaming eventually faded into hoarse cries and pathetic whimpers.

And the call came, just as cheerful and carefree as it had been when he’d entered the cell.

“I think that’s enough for today. I’m ready to go now, Sam!”

Sam flipped the lever to lower the lava without registering his own actions.

“Sam, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, the lava is lowering. I’ll extend the bridge. Move to the front of the cell and I will put the holding wall up.” At least his voice sounded as cold and unaffected at ever.

Quackity laughed. “I don’t think he’ll be going anywhere, even if you didn’t raise the wall.”

“Move to the front of the cell and I will put the holding wall up,” he repeated monotonously.

_Keep up the role. Play the part. The warden has to be cold._

“Okay, okay,” Quackity chuckled. “I’m there.”

Everything was automatic. Nothing registered. Raise the wall, move the bridge, lower the lava, escort the visitor out. Ignore that he couldn’t see Dream’s figure over the wall. Ignore the blood soaking the visitor’s clothing, staining his skin as he handed back the sword, axe, and shears.

_Play the part._

At the portal, Quackity turned, “you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy business partner, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Make sure you sleep as soon as you leave the prison,” was all Sam could respond. Follow the script.

_The script you wrote with Dream. You were once his business partner._

He couldn’t hold back any longer. The second the portal broke and he could no longer hear Quackity’s voice, he ran.

Ran through the hidden corridors only he knew, stopping only briefly at one of the many chests filled with supplies. He didn’t need to search for what he needed. Everything perfectly organized.

Then he was running again.

In moments he was standing in front of an impenetrable wall of molten rock. He didn’t acknowledge the heat as he impatiently waited for the lava to drain.

He worried for a moment about what he was about to do.

_What if he tries to escape?_

But all doubts drained as soon as the lava was drained and the wall had been dropped. There was only guilt.

_No one deserves this._

Dream was a crumpled heap on the floor of the cell, features impossible to distinguish as this distance.

The bridge couldn’t move fast enough as Sam, not the Warden, followed its movements across the chasm.

The Warden wouldn’t be doing this.

The Warden wouldn’t be sick at what he saw as he got closer. But Sam couldn’t keep the contents of his stomach down.

The blood. The _smell_. The…

_Oh dear god…_

Dream’s shirt had been messily cut off and his chest, arms, and back…

Much of the skin was gone.

_Flayed off._

Flayed off and laying in a neatly stacked pile by the cauldron.

As Sam stepped off the bridge, he nearly rolled on something beneath him. He lifted his foot, not wanting to know, but looking anyways.

_That’s a finger._

The thought barely registered and Sam ran the last few steps to the prisoner. The man who used to be his _friend._

Dream tried to curl tighter into himself, but whimpered at the movement.

“Please…please no more…please…no more…”

“Dream…” Sam knelt down carefully, briefly acknowledging the pool of blood now soaking into his own clothing and rolling the other man onto his back. He was still deathly thin from his punishment after killing Tommy. There was no resisting the movement, but a dull groan filled the cell. Sam pulled a health potion out of his pack—the reason he had stopped at the supply chests.

As gently as possible, he lifted Dream’s head onto his lap and poured the shimmering pick liquid into his mouth.

At first there was no reaction.

“Come on Dream, you need to swallow. It will help,” Sam said softly.

Dream complied and his body immediately began to relax. Mouthful by mouthful, Sam coaxed the entire contents of the bottle down the prisoner’s throat.

It was strange, watching the other man’s skin regrow itself—the bleeding slowing until it stopped entirely. Even his missing fingers regenerated.

After a few minutes, emerald eyes cracked open.

“Sam?” His voice was still weak and hoarse.

Sam removed Dream’s head from his lap and began to stand. Dream tried to follow, but Sam pushed him back down.

“Stay down Dream. I don’t need to worry about you trying anything,” Sam said sternly, the Warden returning slightly now that Dream’s pain was manageable.

He crossed to the least bloody part of the cell and placed a bed that he had also thrown into his pack before returning to the prisoner’s side. His eyes were closed again.

“Dream.”

There was no response.

Slowly, carefully, Sam scooped Dream’s pathetic form into his arms. The guilt of starving him shot through his chest again at how easy it was.

Once he had laid him on the bed, Dream’s eyes opened again.

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re…I thought…Quackity…”

“I know…” Sam whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry…I never should have—I’m so sorry…”

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

Tears began to spill over and sobs wracked his body. Why!?

_I wasn’t even the one who was tortured!_

Dream didn’t answer. His eyes were closed off and distant.

He learned to hide without his mask.

Finally, as Sam’s sobbing slowed, Dream spoke.

“You let him—You gave him your sword—”

“You’re right. I am no longer fit to be the warden of this prison.”

Dream was once again silent, only looking at his captor warily.

Something solidified in Sam.

“But I am still the warden. I am the ultimate authority here.” His voice was unwavering as he stood.

He tossed Dream another health potion. He managed to catch it—barely.

“When I come back, I’ll need you on your feet.”

“Why?”

His voice was starting to sound normal again as the first potion continued to coursed through his system. He’d be regaining strength quickly.

_Good. He’ll need every ounce of it._

“You’re going to have to trust me, Dream.”

“Trust you!? You let Quackity torture me for—for hours! Why the hell would I trust you!?”

“Because I am the only chance you have of it not happening again tomorrow and every day after until Quackity gets what he wants.”

Dream shut his mouth at that.

Sam also handed him a loaf of bread, which he took carefully.

“Be ready when I get back.”

_I don’t care what he did, I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen to anyone ever again._

As the bridge hit its dock on the opposite side of the chasm, the lava once again began to flow. Sam stepped off the platform and purposefully strode through the corridors. He couldn’t do this alone. He’d need help, but from who?

_Who would be willing to help the man everyone hates?_

~~ :) ~~

That’s how he ended up standing outside a house far outside the realm of the Greater SMP. He’s glad he always made it his business to know where every person lived.  
It was late into the night and he could hear the creaking of reanimated bone and the groans rotting corpses. It was eerily similar to another groan he had heard earlier in the night.

He shook the thought from his head and proceeded to the door, knocking harshly.

He looked at the house as he waited. The cottage style home was small and cute, surrounded by perfect gardens, brightly lit and fenced off. It didn’t suit the dark oak forest it was nestled in.

Sam knocked again, louder.

A few seconds passed.

A light flicked on within and the door creaked open.

“Sam?”

“George. I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished early, so two chapters in one day! I don't know when the next chapter will be posted, but hopefully it wont take too long!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I'd really love if you left a comment below <3


	3. Survive the Day

It wasn’t hard convincing George to help, considering he had already tried to break Dream out once (even if he didn’t get far at all).

Some of the oldest SMP members might suspect George once it got out that Dream was gone, but Sam was hoping his habit of sleeping through every major event and never getting involved would clear him of most suspicion. And if it didn’t, Sam and Sapnap were the only ones who knew where George lived since he had been stripped of his title.

Besides, most people thought George hated Dream, not the he was worried Dream had hated him.

Sam knew from George’s time living with him that there was very little Dream could do that would make George turn his back on him entirely. Dream was the one thing George cared about—the one thing he wouldn’t want to lose.

Sapnap on the other hand…

Sapnap might be hard to convince and he would suspect George immediately.

_Oh well._

Sam would have to solve that problem when they came to it. He was hoping Sapnap would at least agree that Dream didn’t deserve what would happen if he stayed in the prison.  
George and Sam discussed how they were going to get Dream smuggled out of the prison until the sun started to rise. Until a buzzer went off in Sam’s pocket.

“ _Shit!_ ”

“What’s that?” George asked.

“I’m being summoned to the prison,” Sam explained quickly. “SHIT! I wasn’t expecting Q as soon as the fucking sun came up!”

“What’s going to happen? Will Dream be okay?”

“I’m so sorry George.”

“Sam?”

“He’s not going to be in good shape, George. You know what you need to do. Have a place set up for him, make sure you have health pots, and just…I’m sorry. I didn’t want this.”

The buzzer was going off again.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said one more time before clicking a button on his buzzer and disappearing.

In an instant, he was inside the prison next to his ender pearl teleporter. He clicked the button on his buzzer that would allow him to speak with whoever was in the portal room.

“Morning, Big Q.”

“Good morning, Sam!”

“I wasn’t expecting you back this early,” the emotionless Warden retaking his voice, but not his spirit (never again his spirit).

Quackity laughed, “did I wake you from your beauty sleep, Sam? _HandSAMdude_?”

“Yes,” he responded plainly. “Give me ten minutes, Big Q.”

Quackity laughed again like he was visiting an old friend, not like he was about to torture one within an inch of their life for the second time in two days.

Sam ran through the prison. There was no way he could get Dream out now. Not to spare him today. But he could warn him. Maybe give him a glimmer of hope.

He skidded to a halt in front of the lava wall.

“Dream?”

“Sam!?”

_God, he still sounds so desperate. Did he think I wasn’t coming back?_

“Dream I made arrangements, but I can’t get you out today. Quackity’s already here.”

Silence. And then.

“What!? Sam I can’t! Sam, please!”

“I’m sorry Dream, but you can’t let Quackity suspect anything. You need to throw the empty bottle and bed from yesterday into the lava. You need to burn the evidence.”

“Sam _I can’t do this!_ ”

The terror in his voice broke Sam’s heart, but it was too late now.

“I’m sorry Dream, but you're going to have to. Just survive today. I’ll take you to George after.”

It was the only help he could offer: a reason to survive.

“George?”

“Yes. Quackity lied yesterday. George never hated you. He’s waiting for you somewhere far from the Greater SMP. I'm going to take you to him if you can survive the day.”

“Okay.” He still sounded terrified, but there was cold determination as well.

“I have to go get Quackity. Burn the bottle and the bed.” He said one last time before rushing through the corridors back to the entrance area.

“You can come through the portal Quackity,” Sam said once he situated himself at the reception desk.

Quackity appeared in a second.

“Saaam! How you doing Sam?”

“I’m fine. How did you sleep Quackity?”

“Ah! Ahhh! Sam, I slept so fucking good! Better than I’ve slept in a long time!”

Sam wanted to be sick all over again.

“Glad to hear. I need to ask you some questions, you know the drill.”

“Of course!”

~~ :) ~~

The lava receded, revealing Dream standing resolutely in the middle of his cell—still without his destroyed shirt, but definitely in one piece, unlike how Quackity had left him the day before.

“Sam you fucker! You heal potted the bastard so I’d have a clean canvas to work with today! I knew you were the right business partner for me!”

“I was just worried he was going to die after the mess you left him in yesterday,” Sam said as he handed the other man his sword, axe, and shears, just as he had the day before. He also handed him a few health potions. “Use these if you have to. Him dying from blood loss counts as him escaping and you know the consequences.”

Quackity laughed and positioned himself on the bridge. “Oh, I’ve got all day today, Sam! I’ll be sure to drag it out!”

_Damn it._

He didn’t want to drag out Dream’s agony, but he needed him to survive the day.

As the bridge started to move, Dream reeled back to the far wall of his cell.

“Sam!? Sam, you can’t let him do this!”

Quackity was laughing like he had never seen anything funnier.

“ _Sam, please!_ ”

Sam said nothing as the bridge retracted and the lava once again began to flow.

_I won’t be leaving, Dream._

He wished the other man could hear his thoughts.

“You want to do this the easy way today Dream?”

“Fuck you, Quackity.”

The screaming started almost immediately.

Sam forced himself to listen to every second.

He caused this.

_I deserve this._

~~ :) ~~

After the first few hours, the screaming died down. It was replaced by a strangled, gurgling sound.

“Drink the fucking potion, Dream~” Quackity sang. “It’ll make you feel better and we’ll be able to continue our fun! Or, you can give me what I want, I’ll give you the other potions, and we can part ways as good friends.”

“Fuck…you…” Dream said between rough coughs.

“Whatever you say Dream!”

A sharp cry rang through the prison, followed by another, and another.

Sam knew he would be able to heal Dream’s body after this, but he was less sure about his mind. Could someone come back from this?

_Hopefully George will be able to handle that._

A particularly loud and prolonged scream rattled through Sam’s body and he was nearly sick again. Quackity was not lying when he said he had all day and that he would drag it out. The only break in the sounds coming from the main cell was when Quackity stopped to force a health potion down Dream’s throat.

The sun was beginning to set when the cheerful voice called Sam’s attention.

“I’m ready to go, Sam. I think we’ve had enough fun for the day!”

“I’ll extend the bridge. Move to the front of the cell and I will put the holding wall up.”

“I’m there already. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dreamie,” Quackity mocked.

_I wonder if he’s annoyed that Dream didn’t break._

“The lava is lowering. Remember to move with the bridge as it returns to its dock.”

Once again, Sam reclaimed his weapons, led Quackity out of the prison, and ran back to the main cell. He didn’t want to lower the lava and waste time draining it again, but be couldn’t break protocol. Not with Quackity there.

So he waited again, impatient for the lava to _fucking drain_. It had barely cleared the bridge when he was flipping the lever to move across the chasm, lava still draining below him.

Somehow, Sam managed to not vomit when he saw the state of the cell this time. The skin pile was significantly larger and Sam could count at least 21 fingers littering the cell. As well as an arm. And a foot.

Dream himself was laying on his back this time, fortunately with all limbs intact. Clearly Quackity took Sam’s threat of Dream bleeding out seriously and made sure to use the health pots wisely.

At first there was no visible movement from the prisoner and Sam rushed forward, jumping the final gap over the lava lake before the bridge had even docked. His boots splashed in sticky, already coagulating blood. He ignored it and dropped to his knees, reaching out to Dream’s limp body.

_He has a pulse._

But, god, was he in bad shape. Large areas on his chest and legs were black and charred, the skin peeling back and the flesh below bubbled sickeningly.

The sick bastard had heated the netherite axe in the lava and quite literally tried to _cook Dream alive with it_.

His arms had a notable lack of skin and patches of his hair had been crudely sheered, taking bits of his scalp with it in some areas.

Without further delay, Sam uncapped a health potion and poured it over the worst of the burns and over his arms. He did not want Dream waking up and feeling them. Once the worst of the wounds had been taken care of, Sam gently lifted Dream’s head from the blood-soaked floor and poured the first bit of a new health potion into Dream’s mouth.

After a few moments, Dream’s eyes fluttered and opened. He groaned and attempted to sit up. Sam helped drag him over to the wall so he could lean against it.

“Here,” Sam said, handing him the rest of the potion. Dream accepted it with a shaky hand, but was unable to keep hold of it.

Sam flinched as the bottle shattered on the obsidian floor.

Dream made a fearful whimper.

_Is he afraid I’ll be angry with him?_

“Don’t worry. I have lots of those,” Sam said, trying to be soothing. He withdrew another potion from his bag, but this time he lifted it to Dream’s lips himself.

Dream greedily drank it all, sighing when he was done.

“You know,” he croaked, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stomach health pots again after today.”

Sam didn’t say anything. Instead, he elected to slump against the wall beside the prisoner.

Neither knew how long they sat there before Sam finally spoke.

“Can you stand?”

“Probably.”

Sam heaved himself up and offered a hand. “I never thought I’d say this, but let’s get you out of this hell-hole Dream.”

Dream gave a weak grin and accepted the hand.

They had just barely made it across the chasm, Dream leaning heavily on Sam to remain upright, when a large explosion shook the entire prison.

Dream gave a confused (and mildly terrified) look.

Sam was unfazed.

“I may have called in a favour that a certain anarchist owes you. That explosion means our ride is ready.”

The plan to get Dream out had been relatively simple. George had visited Technoblade on Dream’s behalf. All Techno had to do was have two horses tied outside the prison, then set off a sizable explosion on the prison roof. Sam would lead Dream to a well-hidden portal where George would be waiting to lead him through the nether and to his home. They’d stay there for a couple days so Dream could recover, then they would flee further to a location only Sam and George knew.

Sam would return to the prison and put it into lockdown. Quackity would be kept at bay and Dream and George would get at least a week’s head start. If everything went smoothly, the pair would be long-gone and no one would ever manage to track them.

_If everything goes smoothly._

But there’s wasn’t a lot of time to think about if it didn’t. Sam just hoped there were enough people who would agree Dream didn’t deserve to be tortured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed :)  
> Please leave a comment below telling me what you thought! I'm always open to criticism as well as compliments.


	4. Prison Break

Unfortunately, Dream hadn’t recovered enough by the time they reached the horses to be able to ride alone. Sam quickly boosted Dream onto his own horse. He noted the name _Journey_ engraved on the breast collar.

Before swinging himself up behind the other man, Sam removed the tack from the other horse and set it free.

Maybe it would be less suspicious anyways if only one set of tracks was found.

Sam urged the horse on at a walk until they had crossed the river to the east and were well under the cover of the trees. Technoblade would be coming behind and covering their tracks, but hoof prints left from a gallop are a lot harder to remove than some bent-over grass.

Once he was confident no one would easily pick up the trail, he heeled the horse into a lope.

Dream let out a sharp hiss of pain, but made no other complaint. Instead, he hunched over and tried to stay balanced without stirrups to ground himself with. It was not easy to stay on top of the horse with two people in one saddle.

Sam switched the reins to one hand, hoping to god that the horse knew how to neck-rein, and wrapped his free arm around his passenger’s waist.

Dream made a grunt of appreciation, which Sam ignored.

He also ignored when the other man’s hand would suddenly shift from Journey’s mane to tightly grip the sleeve covering the arm around him.

Maybe he was trying to balance himself, maybe he was trying to remind himself this was actually happening after spending so long in an obsidian box.

It didn’t take them long to get to George’s portal. They couldn’t risk building it further out and Sam not being able to make it back to the prison before morning.

Sam slowed the horse to a trot as they entered a forest clearing that glowed with purple. A small figure stood upright from where they had been leaning against the portal.

“Dream?”

Dream straightened immediately. Sam felt him wince at the sudden movement.

“George,” he breathed.

Sam pulled Journey to a halt and dismounted, helping his passenger dismount after.

Dream immediately fell into George’s arms, who had rushed forward to help Sam ease Dream out of the saddle. They clung to each other desperately, as if they let go the other would disappear forever.

George fixed Sam in an intense gaze over Dream’s shoulder.

 _Thank you,_ he mouthed.

Sam simply nodded. “You two need to go.”

Dream finally turned, though still heavily leaning on George.

“You’re not coming?” he asked.

Sam shook his head, “I need to get back to the prison.”

“They’ll know it was you Sam. You’ll be in danger.”

George and Sam made eye contact again.

“They’ll find out eventually, but first I’m going to give you two as much of a head start as I possibly can.”

“They’ll want you locked in that prison once they find out,” Dream stated.

“I know. I have a plan in place.”

Dream nodded. “Thank you, Sam. Stay safe.”

Sam nodded once again. He didn’t think he deserved to be thanked. He probably deserved to be in that cell more than Dream did.

“Go,” he said firmly.

His companions nodded back and turned to the portal. Within a second, they were gone.

Sam pulled out a diamond pickaxe and set to work.

_Time to destroy the evidence._

With the portal gone, Sam placed a fence post and tied Journey’s lead to it. Technoblade wouldn’t be far behind.

“Your master will be along shortly to collect you,” he murmured to the gentle beast before clicking his button and he was back in the prison. As expected, there was already someone outside the prison wanting answers.

Tommy was aggressively pressing the button next to the portal and calling Sam’s name.

Sam sighed. _It isn’t even sun up yet…_

He pressed the button on his speaker. “What do you want Tommy? I’m kind of dealing with something at the moment.”

“Sam? What’s going on?” another voice asked. Ranboo.

“There was just another explosion on the prison roof. The prison is in lock down until I figure out what happened,” Sam replied with the Warden’s voice.

“This is just like when…” he could hear Tommy muttering. “Sam, I told you! I told you he was going to escape!”

“Surely he hasn’t escaped.” So Tubbo was there too. “Has he?”

“The prisoner is secure,” Sam responded automatically. “The explosion didn’t even damage the exterior, but the prison is in lock down until further notice and you three need to leave.”

“Sam it was Technoblade! I know it was!” Tommy continued to yell, completely disregarding what Sam was saying. “Sam, I told you Technoblade owes Dream a favour and he’s going to break Dream out!”

“Dream isn’t going anywhere Tommy. You three need to leave.”

“Come on Tommy, let’s go,” Ranboo said. “We can’t do anything here anyways.”

It took a bit (or a lot) more convincing to get Tommy to leave, but eventually the three boys left, Tommy promising to return the next day despite Sam stating he will not give him any more information than he already has.

Sam ran through the prison, double checking that nothing internally or externally had been damaged. He followed the protocol.

Nearly as soon as he was finished, his buzzer was going off again.

“Good morning, Sam!” the gleeful voice flowed through the speaker. “I’m here to see our friend again!”

“You’ll have to change you plans, Big Q. The prison is in lockdown.”

Quackity chuckled. “What do you mean ‘lockdown’?”

“There was an incident last night after you left. The prison in under lockdown until I figure out what happened.” Sam explained monotonously.

“Sam, surely that’s even more of a reason to let me in. Once I get what I need we can just kill Dream and we won’t have to worry about him anymore!” Quackity reasoned. It almost sounded reasonable if Sam wasn’t denying him for a completely different reason.

“I’m sorry, Q. No one comes or goes during lockdown.”

“Come on, Sam! We’re partners! You know you can trust me.”

“I won’t risk Dream escaping by letting anyone in or out. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Sam, he probably coordinated this somehow just to keep me out!” Quackity sounded angry now.

“It doesn’t matter to me why it happened, only that it did happen.”

The Warden was unwavering, but now Sam had a reason to be unwavering as well.

“I’ll let you know when the lockdown is lifted,” Sam said, “unit then, you need to leave.”

“You’re making a mistake, Sam,” Quackity tried once last time.

“Bye, Big Q,” was all Sam replied before he turned off his mic and let out a long sigh. It was going to a long couple weeks. How long could he keep the prison in lockdown before people grew suspicious?

That was a question he could answer later. For now, he desperately needed sleep. It had been two days and two nights since he had last had the chance.

He collapsed into the bed in his private quarters.

_Hopefully they made it through the Nether alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support! I can't believe that we've almost 100 kudos already!
> 
> This is where we are going to leave Sam's POV for a bit and we'll be getting some of Dream's (Or maybe George's -- I haven't decided yet) part of the story! I hope you all look forward to it!
> 
> Thank you so much, again, and I will see you next chapter!


	5. Going Back?

Seeing George again felt like a whole new blow to Dream’s chest. He hadn’t seen him since he had taken his throne.

That was a sharper pain than Quackity ever could have given. He occasionally still had nightmares where George muttered those words.

_“Just say you hate me.”_

He could never hate him. Never George.

What else could he do when George extended his arms other than collapse into them? In that moment, Dream could have died happy.

“You two need to go.”

_Right. Sam._

Dream released his best friend and turned. He would have fully stood, but he didn’t trust his legs, so he continued to lean on the smaller man.

“You’re not coming?” Dream asked.

_Why do you care? He confined you for months._

_He also got me out. He was my friend. Before L’Manburg, before the discs. He was my friend._

Sam shook his head, “I need to get back to the prison.”

“They’ll know it was you Sam. You’ll be in danger,” Dream warned. In the end, he really just wanted his friends to be safe.

“They’ll find out eventually, but first I’m going to give you two as much of a head start as I possibly can.”

_Why?_

“They’ll want you locked in that prison once they find out,” Dream argued. Did Sam actually know what he was doing? Why would he risk everything like this? Dream didn’t have any power over him. No leverage. Sam had all the power. He was the most powerful person in the SMP with Dream out of the way, but he was choosing to give it up for…why?

“I know. I have a plan in place.”

Dream nodded.

_I don’t understand._

“Thank you, Sam. Stay safe.”

Sam nodded once again. “Go.”

And George was dragging Dream’s weakened body through the portal.

Once they were through, George set him down on a netherrack boulder and slung a bag off his shoulder. Out of it, he pulled a glass bottle filled with a shimmering pink liquid and a diamond pickaxe. He handed the bottle to Dream.

“Drink this. It’ll make you feel better before we continue”

Dream shuttered, but accepted the potion anyways. There was no way George could know Quackity had said something painfully similar after cutting off each of Dream’s fingers, one by one. And flaying most of the skin off his chest and arms.

Quackity sure seemed to like that bit. He would smile like he was watching the most satisfying thing to exist as he watched skin separate from flesh.

He’d force Dream to examine it before delicately placing it on that disgusting pile. Then…

“Dream?”

Suddenly he was back in the nether. George was crouching in front of him with a panicked look on his face.

“George? You—you’re here…”

“I’m here,” George said softly, wiping tears from Dream’s face.

He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“You’re okay now, Dream. I’m not going anywhere,” George soothed. Dream leaned into his touch.

When had he last been touched without someone wanting to hurt him?

“Drink your potion, Dream,” George commanded gently.

_Right. The potion._

“I need to destroy any evidence that the portal was here, then we have quite a way to travel and I need you to be able to support your own weight.”

Dream nodded, trying not to think as he quickly swallowed the shimmering liquid.

It didn’t take George too long to break the portal and collect the obsidian, but Dream still appreciated the break. Sitting on that horse was not enjoyable, even if Sam tried to make it as comfortable as possible.

Once there was no evidence the portal had ever existed, George led Dream down a winding path to a large lava lake. Waiting for them was a single strider.

“I’m sorry, I only have one strider so we’ll have to share,” George said. “I have a nether-roof road, but I didn’t know if you’d have the strength to travel it.”

“I don’t know if I’d have the strength,” Dream replied with a light chuckle.

George gave his strider a pat on the head before climbing onto its flat back and signaling for Dream to climb on as well.

Dream was happy to clamber onto the creature’s back and wrap his arms around his best friend. Before he knew it, he had fully collapsed against George’s back, eyes drifting shut.

~~ :) ~~

“Dream, you need to wake up now,” a voice called.

Dream registered the sound of lava bubbling as he slowly regained consciousness. Who was talking to him? Had someone come to visit while he was sleeping?

“Dream.”

_George? George came to visit?_

Dream’s eyes opened as he shot upright.

“Woah! Careful!” George called, reaching behind himself to stabilize the other man. Dream remembered everything and slumped back against his friend’s back, causing George to laugh.

_God, I missed that laugh._

“We’re almost at my portal, but we’re going to have to walk for a bit. Shroom is getting tired carrying both of us,” George explained, maneuvering the strider onto the netherrack shore.

This time, Dream was able to dismount and stand on his own. His skin still felt raw and his limbs still ached, but he didn’t feel completely exhausted anymore.

He trialed after George as he led his strider into a well-hidden cave.

A short way into the cave, there was a fenced off enclosure with lots of mushrooms, nether root, and a little lava pond. George led his strider through a gate and it immediately started gobbling up the mushrooms.

George let out a small laugh before returning to Dream.

“Now let’s get you home and cleaned up. You look like you’ve spent the past several months in a box without a mirror.”

Dream laughed. “You’re such an idiot, George.”

George just smiled in return.

The portal wasn’t much further into the cave and soon they were back under that warm sun of the overworld. And despite how tired he was, Dream couldn’t help but stop and admire every little thing he hadn’t seen in so long—things he never thought he miss.

The flowers were so vibrant and the bees were so happy and the grass felt so soft beneath his feet.

George was happy to trot along after him, giggling at his antics, which Dream could not have appreciated more.

_When did I stop appreciating all of this?_

It was just like when he and George had first discovered the SMP, George calling it ‘the DreamSMP’ as he giggled and started building a little farm on a lake.

Dream’s heart ached and he wished they could go back to that time. _Could we go back?_

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the small cottage.

“Before you do anything else, you are having a bath,” George ordered with a laugh.

“That would actually be awesome.”

George hadn’t mentioned it, but heal pots don’t get rid of the blood, they just stop more from coming out. Dream knew his hair was matted with it and the rest of him probably looked like…well…like he had had most of his skin sheared off.

A bath would definitely be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm hoping I can get at least one more out before my writing momentum runs out because the next chapter will be a little bit painful >:)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and if you enjoyed it, I'd really appreciate if you left a comment below! And if you didn't like it, you can still comment below and tell me why :)


	6. Dinner, Baths, and PTSD

As soon as they were inside, George ushered Dream into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. He knew he said Dream would be taking a bath first thing, but he didn’t like how easy it had been to hold the other man’s weight. George didn’t need Dream to take off his shirt to have a good idea of what he’d find underneath.

_Yeah. Food is definitely a higher priority._

“What happened to bath before anything? Aren’t you afraid I’ll stink up your kitchen?” Dream lightly quipped.

“You’re so annoying. You’re going to eat while I draw a bath.”

_I missed this so much…_

“That’s a good idea, because I’ve entirely forgotten how to work a bath tub after my months in prison,” Dream responded sarcastically, but there was only affection behind his words.

“Shut up and let me take care of you, idiot,” George said with a roll of his eyes, equally as affectionate.

George had some leftover mushroom soup, so he heated that up and placed it in front of Dream. Dream looked like he had been handed a stack of netherite ingots.

“Don’t feel the need to eat it all--I don’t want to be cleaning up any vomit if you overdo it.”

Dream wheezed and picked up his spoon.

Hearing that laugh again was surreal.

George placed the now empty pot in the sink.

“I’ll go start the bath.”

“Thank you, George.”

Why did he care so much about the throne back then? Why did power mean anything if he could have Dream by his side instead? Power just ruined everything. George sat on the edge of the claw-foot tub, watching the water begin to flow as he ran through both pleasant and painful memories.

Once the temperature was satisfactory, George plugged the drain and an idea popped into his head. He hurried to the bathroom cupboard where we pulled out a couple bottles: one was foamy bath formula and the other…well…George noticed how Dream reacted to being given a health pot—he’d have to ask Sam about that one. He really did think Dream should take another one, he just didn’t want to trigger…whatever he had triggered.

George mixed the health potion into the water first, breathing in the light melon scent. Then he added the bubble bath, the scent of lavender and vanilla overtaking the scent of the health pot.

He draped a clean wash cloth over the side of the tub and laid out the fluffiest towel he had on the stool in the corner. Thinking for a second, he rushed to his room. He was pretty sure he still had a hoodie and sweats of Dream’s from before. Though they’d definitely be a bit too big on him now…

Satisfied with everything, George turned off the water and returned to the kitchen. Dream had finished most of his soup and was now staring off into nothingness.

“Dream?”

Dream jumped, accidentally knocking his bowl, causing it to shatter on the floor.

“I’m sorry!” he immediately cried. “It wasn’t on purpose! I’m sorry—please, I didn’t—”

“Dream! Dream, it’s okay!” George cut him off and made to rush to his side, but paused when Dream stumbled back to get away.

Taking a small breath to quell the hurt in his chest, George extended his hands in the least threatening way he could.

“It’s okay Dream, honestly,” he said, softer this time. “I’m not upset, I promise.”

Dream let out a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry George,” he muttered.

“You actually don’t need to be sorry. It was just a bowl.”

“I know…there were just—consequences—if I broke something, even accidentally…”

George resisted the anger that coursed through him and extended a hand, “Come on, the bath is waiting for you.”

Dream, seemingly grateful for the offer to move on without needing to discuss anything further, accepted George’s hand, weaving their fingers together.

George led Dream to the bathroom before returning to the kitchen to clean up.

He felt another pang shot through his chest when he saw the shattered bowl and mess of soup. He really needed to figure out everything that happened in that prison. Sam had some serious explaining to do.

~~ :) ~~

Once the glass had been cleared away and the floor had been mopped, George quickly washed the pot in the sink and hung it back where it belonged. He tried to tidy a few more things, but everything was pretty much already done from when he was getting ready the day before.

Making up his mind, George grabbed a comb and a pair of shears. Dream would probably like to have his hair trimmed—it had grown a lot longer than he normally liked it and it would probably be a bit of a relief for things to return to somewhat normal, even if it was something as small as a hairstyle.

George knocked softly on the bathroom door before pushing it open.

“Hey Dream, I was wondering if you’d like me to wash and cut your hair? It’s gotten a lot longer than you’d normally—”

Dream had turned to glance at George over his shoulder.

Suddenly Dream was on his feet, water and bubbles straying everywhere as he desperately reeled backwards, nearly falling as he scrambled to get out of the tub. His wild gaze glued to George’s hand.

“Stay back! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

George moved the shears in his hand slightly in order to look at them in confusion. Apparently this was the wrong move.

Dream let out a strangled cry and sank down into a ball in the far corner of the room.

“ _Shit!_ ” George hissed, tossing the shears behind himself. He grabbed the towel and dropped to his knees in front of his friend.

Dream curled tighter into himself.

“Please not again, please not again,” he was whimpering again and again.

“Hey,” George soothed, carefully draping the towel around his shoulders and resting what he hoped was a comforting hand on the other man’s back.

Dream flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“It’s okay Dream,” George continued to speak as softly as possible. “You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you here. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re home.”

Dream opened his eyes, locking them with George’s. He looked puzzled.

“George?”

“I’m here.”

“The…the shears…?”

“They’re over there,” George motioned towards the door. “No one is going to bring them near you.”

Dream leaned toward George, who wrapped his arms around him. George just held him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back as sobs wracked through his scrawny frame.

In that moment, George would have killed Quackity without hesitation.

It was a while before sobs had died down to shuttering breaths.

George murmured Dream's hair, “let’s run you a clean bath and I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Dream just nodded numbly and followed easily as George stood, pulling them both to their feet. He stood just behind George, who was pulling the plug, allowing the water to drain.

George turned slightly to check on Dream. He was staring warily at the shears abandoned on the floor.

“Hey.”

Dream’s gaze snapped to his.

“Don’t worry about those. I’m going to get rid of them once I start the water back up.”

Dream nodded and let out a weak, “okay.”

George turned the water back on, making sure it wasn’t too hot before plugging the tub again and directing Dream to get in. He took the towel and placed it back on the stool.

“Can I…have more bubbles?” Dream asked quietly. “They smelled nice.”

George let out a bright laugh before uncapping the bubble bath and pouring it under the running water.

Dream made an appreciative hum and reached out to grab at the bubbles as they formed.

“Dream?”

He looked up.

“I’m just letting you know that I’m going to move the shears.”

Dream froze.

“Is that okay? I won’t bring them near you. I just don’t want them to stay on the ground.”

Dream nodded hesitantly, “I—I trust you.”

Slowly, so Dream could easily track his movements, George bent down and grabbed the shears. He opened a small chest and dropped them inside.

“This is connected to an incinerator. The shears are gone.”

“You didn’t need to destroy them,” Dream said, but George could hear the relief in his voice.

“It’s not a big deal,” George assured, crossing back toward the tub. “Would it be alright if I wash your hair?”

He received a small smile in return.

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This was one of the scenes that I first thought of when I was inspired to write this fic!
> 
> Leave a comment below if you enjoyed it, or if you didn't enjoy it, tell me why :)
> 
> See you next chapter: Sapnap's Vow


	7. Sapnap's Vow

The past few days had been both heaven and hell for Dream. They say you never know what you have until its gone, but Dream never entirely knew what he had until he got it back. And George had been more than willing to just accept Dream back like nothing had happened. George’s companionship was heaven.

As for hell…well…

Dream hated the nightmares and flashbacks that were brought on by seemingly nothing. He knew they scared George. He hated himself for not being able to deal with it on his own.

He felt very little guilt for his actions leading up to being imprisoned. Maybe he felt a little bad about intending to kill Tubbo. Tubbo didn’t really deserve it, but he was the best way to get to Tommy. Tommy deserved everything. He was the reason everything went wrong. The SMP had been so peaceful before Tommy showed up—a rogue child who lived to cause chaos. Tommy was the reason Dream had to let go of everything to try and control the citizens of the SMP. Control was the only way to keep things peaceful and safe, even if everyone hated him for it.

But people didn’t want _safety_ , they wanted _freedom_.

Well, Dream would be gone and they would be free to kill each other and grief each other’s homes all they wanted.

Dream loaded another pack onto one of George’s many llamas. He was pleased with the lack of struggle.

He was gaining back his strength at a surprising rate. It had only been three days since Sam had broken him out, but Dream was already strong enough to get back into practicing with the spare axe in his ender chest. He wasn’t anywhere near 100%, but he’d be strong enough to defend them against mobs when they moved the following day. And any people who would be dumb enough to follow after them.

He suspected the quick recovery had something to do with George pouring potions into the baths he insisted Dream take a couple times a day.

He chuckled to himself.

He considered bringing up to George that he knew. It would be fun to tease the smaller man, but he didn’t have the heart to. George’s quiet kindnesses were the best things about Dream’s life.

Dream was about to open the door to the house to grab another pack to load when heard the ring of a sword being drawn.

Dream’s axe was in his hand in a second.

He really was a lot slower.

“What are you doing here, Dream?” the cold voice cut through the silence of the afternoon.

Dream turned slowly, listening for any indication that his assailant was moving closer.

“Hello Sapnap.”

“What. are. you. doing. here?” he repeated, raising his sword.

Dream’s blood ran cold at the sight of the netherite blade, but he just gripped his axe tighter, reminding himself that this was nothing like the prison. He could defend himself this time.

“Oh, I’ve been, you know, just…living,” Dream replied lightheartedly.

“Dream I told you what I would do if you escaped.”

Dream simply nodded. He wouldn’t turn Sapnap’s wrath on Sam.

“I don’t want to do this man, so I’ll give you one chance. Drop the axe and come back to the prison with me.”

“No way in hell will I ever go back there,” Dream said, his voice becoming bitingly cold.

“Don’t make me kill you, Dream,” Sapnap said, almost like he was begging.

“You couldn’t if you wanted to. You’ve never beaten be before and you won’t now.”

“Come on, Dream,” Sapnap tired to reason one last time. “I’m in full netherite; you have nothing but an axe. You don’t even have a shield.”

“ _I won’t go back._ ”

“Then your blood isn’t on my head.”

Without another word, Sapnap summoned a shield and strode forward.

“George!” Dream called over his shoulder. He didn’t know where the smaller man was, but he’d be the only chance of escaping this fight.

Dream easily dodged Sapnap’s first swing and deflected the second with his axe.

He saw an opening, but didn’t take it, instead deciding to put more distance between himself and the other man.

“George!?” he called again. There was no answer.

_Damn it! He must have already left to harvest the wheat farm._

Sapnap continued to advance.

Dream’s eyes danced around their surroundings. He needed to get out of the congested garden and onto open ground, but the only gate was behind Sapnap.

Dream set his jaw and took up a defensive stance.

“Finally going to take me seriously?” Sapnap quipped.

Dream didn’t respond as the two started to circle each other, eyeing up the other’s stance for any flaws.

But before either could make a strike, Dream turned and ran.

“What the hell!?” Sapnap called, jumping into pursuit.

Once Dream was through the gate and out in the open, he stopped and turned. Sapnap was close enough Dream could have gotten a good strike.

He didn’t.

“I don’t want to fight you, Sapnap!”

“Too bad, Dream. Fight or die.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone!?”

“You know why Dream! You know why!”

Dream once again took up a defensive stance and Sapnap lunged. Dream made to block, but Sapnap changed the direction of his strike at the last second. His blade sliced deep into the inside of Dream’s forearm.

Dream dropped his axe as pain and panic coursed through him. Flashes of obsidian walls and bloodied shears blinded his vision.

_WHY NOW!?_

Sapnap slammed into Dream hard with his shield, knocking him to the ground.

Dream screamed as Sapnap’s sword was brought down, piercing through his shoulder and pinning him in place.

Sapnap dropped to his knees, one knee on each of Dream’s wrists, and yanked his blade free.

Dream cried out again as blood sprayed the armor of the man above him.

“You really have gotten a lot weaker,” Sapnap said through clenched teeth. “I’ll give you one more chance to come back with me.”

“I’d rather die.”

“So be it, Dream.”

Sapnap raised his sword over Dream’s throat.

Dream closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Hopefully George wouldn’t be too upset by his death.

“Drop the sword and get off of him.”

_George!_

Dream’s eyes shot open. George was approaching, crossbow drawn and aimed at Sapnap’s head.

“What are you doing, George?” Sapnap asked, somewhat nervously.

“I said drop the sword and get off of him, Sapnap.”

“You don’t want to do this George.”

“You’re right, but if you don’t listen to me, I will put this bolt through your head and we’ll be long gone before you get back here,” George responded coldly, pressing the crossbow against Sapnap’s forehead.

Dream had never thought of George as threatening, but _holy shit_.

Clearly, Sapnap agreed.

He dropped his sword and slowly stood. Dream immediately rolled to his feet.

George’s gaze didn’t waver as he placed himself between the two men.

“Unequip your armor.”

Sapnap complied.

“Good,” George said, lowering the crossbow slightly.

“Why would you help him, George?” Sapnap asked. He sounded so betrayed.

“We have a lot to talk about, Sap. You can come inside while I explain so long as you agree to not touch Dream.”

“And if your explanation isn’t good enough?” Sapnap asked.

Dream looked at George nervously while nursing his bleeding arm and shoulder.

“I don’t care. I won’t let you hurt him.”

“You won’t be able to stop me, Gogy.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

The two men stared each other down until George raised his crossbow again. “I could always just kill you now.”

“Fine,” Sapnap finally relented. “I’ll listen to what you have to say, but if I don’t like it, then I will be killing Dream.”

“Whatever. Just go inside and wait in the living room,” George said, moving to wrap a protective arm around the injured man. “I need to get Dream cleaned up.”

Dream shot him a grateful look that George returned with a soft smile.

“What, Dweam can’t handle his own owies?” Sapnap mocked.

“No,” George responded flatly, leading the two men into his home. He once again ordered Sapnap into the living room while he ushered Dream into the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” he asked the second the door was closed.

Dream shook his head, trying to fight the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“I can’t move my hand.”

“The idiot probably severed the tendons in your arm,” George muttered. “Can I get you to take a health pot?”

Dream wanted to agree, but his stomach churned at the thought. He shook his head again.

“I—I can’t…I’m sorry…”

One tear spilled over.

“Hey, its okay,” George soothed, brushing the tear away with his thumb. I’ll just pour one over the wounds, then run you a bath, okay? You can stay in here and recover while I go talk to Sapnap.”

Dream nodded.

“I don’t have any health pots left in here, so I’ll have to run to the kitchen,” George muttered as he dug through the cupboard above the sink.

Dream let out a protesting whimper. He did not want to be left alone in this vulnerable state.

“It won’t take long,” George assured him, urging him to take a seat on the stool. “You’ll be safe. I promise I won’t let him take you from me again.”

"Okay," Dream whispered and George rushed out of the room.

“Sit your ass back down, Snapmap,” he heard George snap. He would have laughed under different circumstances when he heard Sapnap’s indignant protest.

George reentered the bathroom holding a comb and two health potions.

He set one health potion and the comb on edge of the sink. He uncorked the second potion as he returned to Dream’s side. He placed it on the ground.

“Can I?” George asked, grabbing the hem of Dream’s shirt.

Dream nodded once and George pulled his shirt off as carefully as possible and once again picked up the potion.

Dream made a noise of relief as George poured it over his shoulder first, then moved down his arm.

Once the worst of the bleeding had stopped, George set the empty bottle aside and started up the bath. He poured in the second potion, glancing at Dream and blushing a little bit as he did so. He added the foamy bath after.

Dream resisted the urge to say anything.

Seemingly satisfied with the bath, George slowly moved behind Dream and began undoing the braid that had pinned his bangs back.

Dream sighed and relaxed into George’s touch as he started running a comb through the tangled locks.

“Do you want me to wash your hair for you?” George murmured.

“Isn’t Sapnap waiting for you?” Dream matched George’s soft tone.

“Sapnap’s an idiot. He can wait until I’m sure you’re okay.”

Dream smirked a bit.

“In that case, I’d really like it if you washed my hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream Team angst let's goooo!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and hopefully I'll be back before too long! I still have plenty of ideas for this story, but I have a lot of homework to catch up on since I have pretty much been living and breathing this fic haha
> 
> Take care everybody and I will see you next time!


End file.
